


Wanted out West

by sadcooki



Category: Long Exposure (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, old west au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 03:11:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11454759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadcooki/pseuds/sadcooki
Summary: Jonas comes back home out west after a few years in the big city. He's hoping for a small reunion, but everything goes south when the infamous Croakers step into his life thanks to a huge misunderstanding.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'll resist the urge to use too much slang, in this but holy shit old west slang is so stupid and fun so no promises. I'm hoping this will be a bit easier to write since it has an actual plot and ending in mind.

   

 

 

It had been a long time since Jonas Wagner had last been back home. He had been hard at work back east trying to make a name for himself, working day and night for the newspaper and the occasional side gig for a private party.

He knew that Dean looked down on his photography jobs even more than the writing he did. The fact the job took him so far away from the ranch probably lent itself to Dean’s sour attitude towards Jonas in general.

He sighed, watching the dusty fields zip by with the occasional cow herder off in the distant as the the train just chugged on along.

He clutched the small bundle of gifts he was bringing back, mostly for the kids, but along with them was a small broach for Sue. It wasn’t much, but he had been hoping to give to her for some time, and now might be his last chance.

He had been trying to distract himself during the ride, but there was only so much reading and staring out at nothing one could do before your mind began to eat away at you again. Why hadn’t they told him Sue was sick? Maybe his job and the time away was why Dean had sent Sidney a telegram and not him?

Thank god Sid had given him a wire about it. His pocket will being hurting for a while, but he can face that when it comes up.

Hopefully they weren’t to shocked to see him. God, what if Dean kicked him out? What would he do then?

“Oldwood Station next stop! Ready departures!”

His hands felt stiff as he pulled his satchel closer and picked up his small bag from the floor. Nothing felt real as he stepped off the train, blinking into the midday sun. He shuffled through the bustle of the rather small station, letting his reflex take over as he walked his way into town.

It was bigger than he remembered. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, but he was sure that half of the store fronts along the main road hadn’t been here when he left.

Several people milled about in the streets, laundry hanging to dry between stores. A crowd of rowdy men sat outside one of the saloons, a few jamming away on makeshift instruments as they drank and played a game of cards. Nearby were some dusty men making their way into a building with two painted ladies. Jonas whipped his eyes away with a blush when one of the women blew him a kiss.

Things sure had changed in the little ranching town. Maybe it was the new mine and the feeling of the west finally catching up with it, or maybe it was that he was finally old enough to understand the subtleties in people, but either way it was a bit of a shock to his system.

Everything felt to open as he shuffled through the town towards the wagon worn path that led towards the Wagner family ranch, struggling not to drop his bags and parcel of gifts.

The sound of people muffled away as he made his way down the path that cut through a small grove and rose bushes. He could remember him and Sidney climbing and hiding under those very same trees as kids when the summer sun made it to hard to exist. They would read to the younger foster kids back then and collect flowers to make chains and to decorate the house a bit.

It would be nice to get some photos of the family out among the trees, even if it would be a bit of a waste of his supplies.

He snapped out of his thoughts as two riders came trotting up, one shouting excitedly as they blocked off his path.

He tried to go around them, shrinking down as their horses gasped and stomped, but was stopped by the larger of the riders, a man with a hook nose, stomped in front of him.

“Hey, not so fast. You the Wagner boy?”

He blinked up at the man, heart pounding as he noticed the man’s guns and a large case of explosives. He had bad feeling in his gut that dried out his throat and turned his words to a stammering breath.

“Well? We don’t got all day, Dottie.”

They were probably just minor from town that knew Dean and Sue. From the crazy grin on the smaller rider and way she was eyeing him and the rough growl of the man’s voice Jonas was sure they had gotten thrown in the town jail fairly often. They probably just wanted to give the Sheriff’s son a hard time.

“Yes,” he finally said. He could barely make out the man’s expression from the shade of his hat. They were silent for a heavy minute, and he took it as he cue to leave with an awkward wave.

He didn’t make it much farther than a few steps before the heel of a boot against the side of his head made the world go fuzzy.

 

 

 

“Aw, you didn’t have to knock his lights out, Javi! Spottie here couldn’t fight his way out of a wet sack!” The voice was distant and unfamiliar to Jonas’ ears. The other voice was closer, but just as nonsensical to his ears.

“He’s more dangerous than he looks. He’s got a quick draw. So unless you want to be ditched or dead meat this was all we could do.”

That made no sense. Jonas couldn’t throw someone in jail, and definitely could kill someone! He had only ever killed a hare, back when he was kid, and had been so upset about it he hadn’t eaten the rest of the day.

He wanted to say something but couldn’t figure out how to make the words come out or how to raise his head up. Instead he let it hang, drifting in and out of the throbbing of his fuzzy head.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mitch hated being so far away from White Liner Park just sitting out in the open with nothing to do but drink and play some cards with Cliff. If they were going out on the open plains he would much rather go on a little spree along the stagecoach routes, but a job was a job, and when you were getting paid as much as they were it was worth the more boring moments.

He barely believed his eyes when two riders came into view on the horizon, just silhouettes against the darkening sky.

“Fuck, about damn time! I was beginning to think you two got shot up.”

He hopped to his feet, tossing his cards at Cliff as Javier came to a stop at his feet. On the back of his horse was a tied up man, an old vegetable sack tied over his head. He and Cliff hoisted the limp form of the horse, dropping him down just inside one of their tents.

“We had to take the long way round to avoid the Sheriff’s house and the town.”

“Good, don’t need you lazy fucks hung up by your necks in some cowpoke town,” Mitch scowled as his friend’s tied up their horses for the night, “And you better not have banged up the prize too much. He’s worth nothing dead.”

“I mean. He’s alive?”

Mitch cursed under his breath. If the fucking clown had ruined the biggest single pay day they had ever had, he was going to kill him.

He didn’t bother untying the knot around his neck, simply tearing the cheap fabric away from the man.

Mitch froze taking in the man for the first time in person. His hair was nothing but soft curls and waves that stuck to his sweat slick face. Every inch was covered in freckles, and he couldn’t help but notice how soft that skin looked. He was beautiful in a way that punched him in the stomach. The photo hadn’t done him justice.

His face hardened as he felt eyes on him, and he closed the tent flaps on the man and turned his attention back to his posse.

“I’m going to Deadstone to grab something to drink,” He threw himself up onto his horse, already half out of the camp despite the shouts of protest.

“Watch out for the boy. Everyone knows Marshall Sid Wagner is a dangerous one, even all tied up.”

   


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow slang is stupid And the old west is weird.

 

 

It was well into the night when Jonas finally shook awake. His head was pounding, a gray tint at the edge of vision that he knew shouldn’t be there though he couldn’t really gather his thoughts to worry about it. He could see three forms sitting around a fire, the smell of roasting meat and sound of laughter drifting over.

Jonas couldn’t help but feel like he was forgotten something, but it was so hard to think with his head hurting and stomach growling.

He stared at those figures, the grayness fading a bit as he got his bearings.

Oh. He froze as realization hit him like a train. He had been kicked in the face and tied up like some sort of prized hog. So now he was…

He glanced at the tied up horses and rickety tents. He was in some sort of camp, hands and feet still bound, his captors just a few yards away.

“Hmmf!”

And there was gag in his mouth, of course. That explained why his mouth was so dry.

“Hey, I think the fucker finally woke up.”

One of the captors gestured at him with a jug, the other two turning. They looked shadows against the light of the fire, but Jonas recognized the silhuettes. The smallest shadow, the woman from earlier, was up in a flash, clambering over to him on her hands and knees.

Jonas tried to jerk away as her thin hands poked and pulled at his cheeks, her eyes shockingly pink so close.

“Aw I think you hit him too hard Javi, he looks so confused! Poor little doll!”

Javi yanked her back by the her collar, and Jonas could finally see the hate in the man’s eyes.

The girl didn’t seem put off in the least, her just turning her grin to her friend as she hung from his grip like a kitten from it’s mother’s mouth.

“He doesn’t even have a gun!”

“Scratch, drop it.”

Jonas was watching the exchange quietly, wiggling his arms as much as he could get away with. If he could loosen up the rope around his wrists just a bit more and he could maybe undo the ones around his ankle. He froze again as Javi stepped closer, leaning down in front of him. His heart felt like it was about to beat right out of his chest as the disgustingly stained bandanna was ripped right out his mouth. Jonas was waiting for a blow that never came. Instead, a small water skin and a loose bundle of biscuits were set in his lap. Javier cut the rope tying the bindings of his hands and feet before leaning back.

“Okay Wag-nipper, got orders to keep you alive, so fucking eat up.”

Jonas frowned raising up his still bound hands. He tried to sound brave, but his dry throat crackled awkwardly as he spoke.

“You seriously expect me to eat like this? It would be a lot easier without the ropes.”

The other man just looked annoyed.

“Just eat it.”

It didn’t take much more to convince him to chow down. The biscuits were hard to get down, Jonas’ jaw really too sore to properly chew them. He gave up after the first one, struggling to get a solid grip on the water.

He managed to get half the skin’s contents down before his poor grip left him soaked and the skin in the dirt.

Javier shook his head his picked up the leftovers and skin. Jonas grabbed at his sleeve as he tried to put the bandanna back in his mouth.

“Wait! Please, why am I here?”

“I ain’t telling you shit.”

Jonas jerked in the man’s grip moving his face away desperately.

“My family can’t pay a ransom, I’m no one special I swear! Please let me go I won’t tell any-”

He gagged as the tasted of the bandanna hit him. Javier retied his bindings together before he could yank the clothe back out.

“You sure y’all got the right guy?” The other man spoke up, eyeing the interaction with a frown. “He’s a bit of a tendsome toff for are guy.”

“His face is exactly right!” Scratch tossed an arm around the man, ignoring his grumble of complaints.

“I dunno. He looks too tenderfoot.”

Jonas would have felt insulted by all of this, but more than anything he was scared. Who knew who they thought he was, they weren’t ever going to listen to anything he said even if got the chance.

He was going to just disappear into the desert without a trace or a word. His family would think he ran off to Europe to study, he always had told them he dreamt of studying abroad. Sidney would never forgive him, and he would die in some shallow hole in the middle of nowhere hundreds of miles from home. It was enough to make anyone panic, but Jonas just went numb.

He knew he was more scared than he had ever been in his life but he couldn’t process it. It was just too ridiculous. He sat there, down in the mouth, staring up at the stars with a hollow chest and pounding head.

 

 

Mitch was back at camp an hour or so before sunrise. He had gotten a few jugs for the road, and was more or less sober. The fire was nothing more than a smoldering bundle of sticks with no one around it.

He could see their little hostage’s still form just within his tent. Mitch tried to step off the horse towards the tent, but only managed to fall right off his horse.

“Fuck!”

“Nice, Mitch. Did you save any booze for us?”

“Ha, funny chuffy. Tie my horse up.” Mitch said from his spot in the dirt. He dusted himself off, stomping off to his tent.

The freckle faced hostage seemed to be waking a bit, so hopefully he still had a working head despite the angry bruising beginning to blossom on the side of his face.

Mitch gave a wicked grin as he crouched real close. He let out the ugliest bark of laughter as the boy’s eyes fluttered open and he immediately jerked backwards.

“So, this is the Marshal Sid Wagner? You know you aren’t all that intimidating,” Mitch laughed as the boy blinked up at him. Shame he was so pretty. “I thought you Marshals were suppose to be big fuckers.”

The man really started shouting behind that gag now. Normally Mitch wouldn’t have bothered ungagging him, but he couldn’t help but satisfy the selfish little curiosity at what the man had to say.

He pulled it out, careful of the teeth. Experience had taught him that people loved to bite the hand that fed them if that hand happened to be their captor.

“I’m not Sidney!”

Mitch raised a brow, grin at the boy.

“Yeah, yeah. ‘You got the wrong person.’ ‘I’ve never heard that name before.’ Heard before, Spots. Don’t waste your breathe.”

He laughed at how angry the man looked. People were so predictable sometimes.

“No, I’m not Sidney! She’s my sister!”

That made him stop his laughing.

Mitch dug through his pockets, digging out a scrap of a newspaper article.

“This photo is you!”

“We’re twins, of course we look similar! Look again, it’s not identical.”

“It says ‘he’!”

“Well it's a misprint!”

Mitch was holding the picture up to their hostage’s face, eyes slits as he poured over the details. They were different, though it was hard to make out if Sidney was a woman with how she was dressed. But her face was a bit different if you really looked.

More than that, this man seemed to be telling the truth. He glanced over at Javier. The man looked as confused as he felt.

“Javier, you and Scratch are going to have to go back. And actually get her this time.”

 

 

Jonas shouldn’t have said anything, he should have just let them believe he was Sidney and dealt with whatever they did to him. A braver person might’ve. Sidney would’ve, for him.

So all he could do now was damage control. He had to protect her for as long as he could.

“Wait, she isn’t going to be there!” Jonas shriveled beneath the glances shot at him. “I u-uh. I mean, well, she had some work and couldn’t make it back home. You’ll be lucky if she’s back before winter!”

It was a bit of a half-truth. Sidney had said she was going to be home later, but it was probably closer to a week.

The tallest man, the one Jonas assumed was the leader, ran a dirty hand through his hair. He swore under his breath, kicking one of the stakes holding the tent together.

Eventually he looked back down at Jonas with a grin.

“Change of plans. Looks like we’re gonna bait our prize.”

“Wait no! Please!” Jonas was gagged before he could think up another excuse, his thrashing nothing to the man. As he watched his four captors pack up he felt his panic really start to take a hold of himself. He had failed.

 

  


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow sitting down to write is a lot harder than I remember. Not super happy with this chapter, but I'm excited for the next one! Enjoy y'all!

The light outside was getting low when Sidney unloaded a new bundle of files on her desk, careful not to knock over that evening’s third coffee as she arranged the papers into neat little stacks.

Sid Wagner was a busy woman. She was one of the hardest working Deputy Marshals despite her laid back demeanor and playful bravado.

She had been making some big waves as of late with some big name arrests and a dramatically reported shoot out with the Dust Rustler Gang. It was all more than she could have ever hoped for growing up on the ranch.

She marked down a note as she read one of the reports, nursing her coffee. It was hard to focus on the words.

Sue was sick, Jonas had to go all by himself to that mess, and she had the biggest case of her career. She needed to focus and get the job done so she go home soon, but it could be so hard to focus.

She hummed to herself as she gave the report a quick glance over again before jotting down a name that kept coming up. Mueller.

 

 

 

“Fucking Christ! Will you just sit still?”

Jonas glared up at Mitch from the dirt where he had fallen, taken more than a little joy in the look of absolute annoyance on his face. He may have been a captive, but that didn’t mean he had to just sit and take it.

“Fucking- You’re just making this harder on yourself Spots! You- You-” Mitch cut himself off, crouching down to yank Jonas up by the shirt collar. “Either you stay still and let me put you on the horse, or I’m gonna just tie you to the horse and drag you behind.”

The two just stared each other down for a long minute. Eventually Jonas just gave a small nod. He didn’t know if the dirty outlaw would do just that, but it wasn’t something he wanted to bet on.

“Hey! Ya’ll bout done? I wanna get back before I’m old.”

Mitch glared at the blonde as he hauled Jonas up onto the saddle.

“Cliff, shut it! You inbred fuck.”

Cliff just sneered back before trotting horse back over to where Javier and Scratch waited.`

Jo wriggled a bit as he felt Mitch join him on the horse. He hated that he was still all bound up, that he was essentially powerless and at the mercy of the tall rough hand jerk currently propping him up sidesaddle on the horse.

He froze up when he felt the other man pull him close, a large hand resting on his side. He could feel Mitch’s breath warm the back of his neck.

“See? That wasn’t so bad now was it, Spots?”

Jonas tried to mumble back from behind his gag that yeah, yeah it was that bad, but the horse shooting off beneath them shut him right up.

He tried not to think about the warm hand keeping him from bouncing off the horse.

 

 

 

The prairy was gorgeous. Fields of wild flowers sometimes cut the ruddy browns and soft greens. It was strangely soothing, the colors reminding him of his childhood and rocking him in and out of a nap only to be waken by the bounce of the horse.

Sometimes they passed other people on the trail. Every time he hoped they would notice he was bound up, that something was wrong. Some got closer than others, and his heart would rise with hope.

That hope was always squashed when they just waved a hand without really looking. They had places to be, they had things to think about. They never were going to notice him.

He wasn’t sure how long they had been riding when they turned off the trail towards a shabby looking town.

As they got closer Jonas was more and more sure that there was no way anyone lived in this town, or that it could even be called a town. It was only four small fairly new buildings past the hastily painted sign announcing the city of Dustmound. How pleasant.

The group stopped at the hitching rail to tie up the horses. Soon Jonas was standing on the ground, Mitch unbinding his feet so he could walk by himself.

He went to stretch his legs a bit, to shake the stiffness from his feet. Unfortunally the others had other plans.

Jonas stumbled beside the much taller man as he was dragged by the arm to the largest of buildings.

It was an unpainted rickety looking wooden building with a man snoring loudly outside the door. The sign swinging above the doorway looked even newer, the paint still having a bit of shine.

Mitch let the other three head in ahead of him.

Jonas looked up at him curiously, feeling so small under the man’s red rimmed eyes. He tried to pull out of the man’s grip to little effect other than the flash of a smile that was a wall of teeth.

Mitch shoved the smaller man up against the wall of the building, leaning in close as he looked over the man. He half expected the freckle faced man to look scared, but those green eyes were filled with fire and glaring right back at him.

Shit this man really was beautiful.

Mitch cleared his throat and his thoughts as he tugged the gag from the other man’s mouth.

“Don’t make a scene, okay? It’s back on the horse and to some ditch the second you do.”

“Yea- Yeah.” Spots voice was cracked up, his lips dried out.

Mitch leaned away for a second. He didn’t trust the man, but this guy obviously wasn’t a threat, and he did feel a bit bad for roping the poor Yankee dressed beauty into his sister’s business. He could do the boy this one favor, and worse come to worse he kicks his shit in.

Mitch dropped down to his knees, keeping an eye on his captive as he unbound his hands.

 

 

Javier had handled their tab as Mitch got settled on the small bed in the room they were renting. He was nursing a cheap beer while he watched Spots go to town on his small lunch.

He hadn’t made a scene, which was nice and convenient if a little boring, but he also hadn’t said a word. He hadn’t even looked them in the eye since they unpacked their supplies.

All things considered he should be thankful. All too many times he had gotten saddled with people who could do nothing but chat and try and beg and plead. Try and get him to let them go. The silence was almost a pleasant change.

But the man looked so sad, which no shit he was sad he was a prisoner. It still made Mitch feel a pang of guilt he would never own up to. They needed him now.

Besides the guilt he had a bubbling of fascination for the man.

“So Spots, tell me about yourself.”

He snickered at the dirty look he got in return.

“Why? You want to get to know me before you take me to a ditch.”

Mitch winces, sitting up to get a better look of Spot. He tries not to notice how the other jerks a bit at how quick he sat up. Still he just scowls back.

“Fine, be a little fuck! I was just trying to make conversation. It’s not like we wanted your all beer and skittles ass!”

He sure was a smooth talker. Now Spottie was looking at him, if only to glare him down. Great.

Their was a rapid knock on the door before Scratch’s face popped in.

“Uh hey Mitch Javier needs you outside real real quick?”

“Fine. Watch Spots.”

He shoved past the thin woman as she bounced her way in, slamming the door behind him.

 


End file.
